


There is a Tomb that Moves

by LilyRosetheDreamer



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, brothers reunite and there is sads, halloween brawl, look a sequel!, more spoopy angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyRosetheDreamer/pseuds/LilyRosetheDreamer
Summary: Ghosts are rare, but not unheard of. Hanzo comes face to face with one and realises the depth of his own broken heart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thought of a sequel to Within these Hallowed Halls, so writing it out for you all. Please enjoy.

A full moon. 

Hanzo stares up at it with a cloth bag strapped to his back, wondering at the closeness. The night air cool on his warm skin and his eyes bring up white spots where the moon imprints when he closes them. It’s stunning, but he needs to get back to his teacher. 

His teacher.

A tiny smile curls his lips a moment before he shakes it away and palms open the door. A gust of autumn leaves blow in with his footsteps and he pads straight through to the bubbling laboratory, finding Ana bent over her work intently. Her silver hair is wrapped in a braid and slung over one shoulder, glinting in the light of the candles and lanterns scattered across the room. Hanzo hesitates, always uncertain whether to interrupt her, and she scoffs without looking. 

“Hanzo, stop dawdling and come over here. I trust you got the necessary items?”

Hanzo flushes a faint pink and hurries over, slinging the bag off his muscled back. Digging through, he produces the various herbs and flowers in a neat package. 

Ana grins in a lopsided way and takes them, stuffing them into already overflowing shelves. 

“Perfect, Hanzo! Every good alchemist needs to know how to source their own ingredients and I can’t see a single mistake,” she praised and the pink on his cheeks deepens. 

“I - !” he  starts, but stops and carries on rooting through the bag, bringing out two glazed pastries brimming with jam. “I thought…”

He stops and places them on her wooden desk. Ana smiles properly this time and pats his arm. 

“You know how to butter up an old woman, archer,” she proclaims, stretching and listening to her back crack. “I could use the break anyway,”

She peers up at him sternly as she swipes the pastries and starts to leave the room, Hanzo trailing quietly after her.

“ _You_ could learn how to relax as well, youngling. I’ve caught you passing out twice this week,”

Hanzo says nothing, opting to return to his new notes Ana had given him to study before he left this morning. His brown eyes focus deeply on the equations and she watches his brow furrow just as deeply as he hits a stumbling block. 

“Teacher,”

“It’s Ana,”

“T-Ana, what is this for?”

Ana munches down on her pastry as she moves over to have a look. 

“This one is for a healing potion, Hanzo. Specifically a potion for poison - but which one?”

Hanzo blinks back at the paper, his lips moving soundlessly as he considers. His mind is whirring into the next gear and Ana can’t help but smile again. Hanzo is the most intelligent student she’s ever had and damn it all, she loves watching him figure things out. There is a consistent self-confidence issue under the banter and hard shell he puts up to deflect attention, however, and she’s determined to make him understand how special he is. 

After all, Hanzo is the only student she’s had who passed the first test she’s given all potential students - identifying and resisting the possible temptation to use the Philosopher’s Stone. It was only a simple little thing, a question casually flung over coffee to shed light on the eager greed most alchemy students stored within. 

Hanzo had barely reacted, only to ask precisely what the Philosopher’s Stone was and then bitterly curl his lips upwards. 

“That cannot help me in any way,” he had murmured, his eyes locked on his cup. “I need no immortality nor gold,”

The only thing Hanzo lusts after is knowledge and plenty of it. Ana is willing to give him as much as he desires.

“Belladonna,”

She’s brought out of her reverie by Hanzo’s firm answer. He is sure and rightly so. 

“Correct,” Ana says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Now put that down and eat,”

Hanzo seems a little torn but does as he is told. The moon highlights the grey in his hair and she feels sympathy for him. So young and yet so old. 

* * *

 

He is strangely comfortable. 

Hanzo pauses in sweeping, his brown eyes wide in the direction of the floor. 

He is growing comfortable - complacent. 

He’s wallowing in that comfort he does not deserve and Hanzo’s hands grip the broom handle at that thought. It’s a bad one - Hanzo should not be rewarding himself like this.

His mind always chides him, tells him to leave the old alchemist and flee into the cold wild, to accept his banishment like a good criminal. 

One more day, he pleads, just one more. 

His self-restraint is leaving him more the longer he stays. If this keeps up, he might even become…happy. 

No, that is NOT a luxury he deserves. 

He’s interrupted from his brooding by the bell on the door chiming sweetly as someone enters the front of the laboratory and Hanzo sighs, leaning the broom against stone. Ana often heals the sick and lately has brought Hanzo with her to observe. It is likely someone is calling for her services once again. 

He steps out into the front, his voice soft. 

“If you are looking for Miss Amari, then I can fetch her for you,”

The stranger stands tall, hooded under a dark, ratty cloak that hides their identity completely. Hanzo is not sure why, but this person makes him a tad on edge - probably because he does not know who he is dealing with. They’re completely silent and Hanzo’s starting to wonder whether he should have brought a weapon. Are they someone who Ana has angered?

Ana startles them both as she appears, grumbling under her breath and running a hand through her hair. The old woman stops short as she notices the stranger and straightens as best she can. 

“Good day! Is there anything I can help you with?”

The tension in the room builds as the stranger continues to presumably stare for a long moment, before a gloved hand edges towards the hood. Hanzo tenses, his legs bringing him in front of Ana in case he needs to defend her. 

Not that she is helpless in any way, of course.

The hood comes down and the man rasps in shock.

“Hanzo?”

Hanzo can’t move. What happened? Why is he paralysed and suddenly gasping for air? Why are his legs giving way beneath him?

Why is Genji standing in front of him, breathing as though Hanzo did not - ?! How? How is this real?

“Genji?” Ana asks, her eye radiating concern and Hanzo feels hot dread course through his veins like bolted poison. 

She knew Genji. 

Had she suspected all along? Did she see any family resemblance? Why had she said nothing?

“Hanzo,” Genji whispers, his scarred face crinkling like matted paper. Something creaks in his body as his limbs shift and Hanzo’s shaking like the dying leaves in winter. The damage is unfathomable and Hanzo caused it. 

Genji is somehow alive and Hanzo did not finish the job like he first though.

Genji is alive.

Ana is putting the pieces together, judging by the dawning comprehension on her face. She reaches out slowly towards her student as the once-dead brother looms closer. 

There’s something wet pouring down Hanzo’s cheeks and he is blind. 

“No,” he moans in agony, somehow pushing himself up and stumbling backwards, away from the ghost, away from the night horror come to tear him to pieces. 

“Hanzo!”

Hanzo bolts for the door and flees with the swiftness of a hunted deer. Ana must have suspected something. Genji is alive.

He’s a glass shattering over the ground all over again and Gods, it HURTS. There is nowhere to turn and nobody left to trust.

As it should be.

* * *

 

“We _must_ find him.”

How can they forget the horror in Hanzo’s soft brown eyes? The wheezing of panicked lungs before he ran?

Of course he wouldn’t be alright. How could Genji have thought otherwise?

Hanzo’s petrified and Genji doesn’t blame him at all.

Ana is already gathering her coat and rifle, booted feet stomping on the wooden floor. 

“You should have told me you were coming, instead of sneaking in like this!”

“And perhaps you should have confirmed your suspicions with Hanzo,” Genji pushes in return and Ana slumps a little.

“I couldn’t be sure you were the same person! What would have been the point of hurting him further?” she defends and Genji shakes his head, swiftly heading to the door.

“He is hurt anyway. We both have ourselves to thank for that. Honestly, I _am_ surprised he didn’t try and stab me,”

Ana closes her eye. 

Genji leaves ahead of her to start searching. 

There is a clear trail, broken twigs and erratic footprints through dew. He finds some of Hanzo’s gold scarf torn on a thorny tree and surmises that he’s catching up. He’s going to have to be careful however; Hanzo is in no frame of mind to greet him with open arms, and another fight with his lost brother is the last thing he needs. 

Hanzo’s frantic, his chest heaving as he catches glimpse of Genji after five more minutes of following the pattern. His hands are shaking and he’s trapped against a rock wall with nowhere else to run.

“S-Stay away, demon!” he spits, an angry cat cornered by a predator. “You are NOT my brother - you only wear his skin! I know your tricks!”

Wonderful, he’s decided that Genji is a demon.

“Hanzo,” he sighs, already exhausted. “Please, listen for a moment,”

“No!”

“Hanzo!” he raises his voice and Hanzo flinches, hands scrambling for an arrow, only to choke when he remembers he’s unarmed. 

“Have you come to punish me?” he whispers weakly, dark eyes flitting wildly.

Genji can barely look at him, a shade of the Hanzo he once knew. 

“Hanzo, please,” he says again, opting to slowly sit in the wet grass. “Look, I am sitting down. I am not here to hurt you, I swear. I swear on the dragons,”

His brother shivers at the oath.

“Only a Shimada can control the dragons,” he breathes out. “And only a Shimada knows the weight of swearing upon them,”

“Yes,” Genji replies calmly. “Which is why I am doing it,”

Then he carefully pulls up a sleeve and shows Hanzo his green, glowing dragon tattoo. 

Hanzo slides down the wall, his knees hitting the ground with a thud. Tears spill over and down his face, splashing into the earth. 

“Genji,” he sobs brokenly. “Genji!”

The younger tentatively gets up and creeps over to his sibling, a hand outstretched. He must go slowly, fighting against the longing to bring him in for a long-missed embrace. Hanzo’s face crumples and he’s suddenly a frightened child. 

Genji wastes no time in curling protectively over his brother and finally filling in the ache. 

“I am here,” he murmurs gently and Hanzo clings as though he is a drowning man in a storm. “All is forgiven, Hanzo. I have come here to forgive you,”

Hanzo stares at him in heart-breaking bewilderment, his fingers gripping his coat. 

“How? How can you look upon me like this? I took your life!” 

“Hanzo,” he reprimands sternly. “You know what happened that day…what was real and what was not,”

Hanzo shudders and shakes his head, burying his nose into Genji’s neck. 

“I know not what is real anymore…I have not for a long time,” 

“Why are you not in Hanamura?”

Hanzo’s laugh is worrying, his eyes manically bright all of a sudden.

“Banished, brother! Or perhaps you forget the blood that stained my clothes as I staggered back to our clan?”

Genji leans his forehead against Hanzo’s own, saddened greatly on his brother’s behalf. 

“I am so sorry. You did not deserve that,”

“Oh, but I _did_ ,” Hanzo hisses. “I truly did,”

“I have forgiven you,” Genji parries confidently. “Now you must forgive yourself,”

Hanzo smiles bitterly, a brittle, tense thing. 

“Real life is not like the stories our father told us. You are a fool for believing it so,”

Genji’s tawny eyes stare into Hanzo’s sadly.

“Perhaps I am a fool…but am I not your fool of a brother?” 

There is a pause and then a tearful nod. Words cannot express what Hanzo is feeling and most likely he will need a lot of time to sort through them himself. Genji aims to be there to help him through it. 

“How?” Hanzo rasps after the brothers kneel in each other’s embrace for a while, unsure of what to do from here. 

“A witch,” comes the reply. “The Witch of the Wilds. She found me dying and brought me back from the brink. To this day, I am not sure why nor where she went afterwards, but I am grateful to her. To her and the monk Zenyatta who found me and guided me after that,”

Hanzo’s pale and Genji tilts his head. 

“What’s wrong?”

“She…I fought her with some companions. Ana was one of them - w-we killed her. She was in league with a mad scientist and his monsters. One was her thrall,”

Genji huffs in morbid amusement and leans against his brother. 

“Such is the fickle nature of witches, I suppose. I am disappointed, but it cannot be helped. And no, I am not a thrall for her,”

“You are…at peace,” Hanzo says finally, his eyes narrowed and swollen from crying. 

Genji chuckles at that. 

“Thank Zenyatta! I finally know how to meditate now,”

Hanzo blinks. 

“I do not have to chase you away from bothering me at my own meditation anymore?”

Genji laughs at that and Hanzo offers a tremulous, unsure smile. Genji can’t believe he never saw how mentally vulnerable Hanzo was before.

“Hanzo!”

Ana crashes through the undergrowth, breathing heavily. 

“Hanzo, you stupid man, don’t frighten us like that again! I understand if you want to leave my tutelage but at least do it safely!”

Said student untangles from his cluttered reunion with his brother (they haven’t even covered half of the issues between them yet, not under the layers of relief and grief and fear) and goes to rise shakily to his feet. Ana doesn’t give him the chance, for she’s wrapping her arms around his head and bringing him forward before sinking to her own troubled knees. 

Hanzo gazes at her numbly and she smoothes away that lock of hair that always hangs down his face in a grandmotherly gesture.

“I was a foolish old woman,” she says at length. “I should have tried to confirm my suspicions with you, but…I apologise for hurting you like this,”

Hanzo leans into her hand and closes his eyes. 

“Teacher,”

“Yes?”

“I apologise as well,”

Ana rolls her eye but accepts the needless apology anyway. Genji sits back on his haunches and stares up at the gathering grey.

It’s going to rain soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, have this. Hope it’s alright!


End file.
